


Iron

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bestiality, Established Relationship, Fanart, Ficlet, M/M, WTF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 18:19:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1438021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smaug puts his claws to good use.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Iron

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

If the dwarves could see him now…

But no, he shouldn’t think of that. He shudders, snatched away, how _could_ he even think of that with this beast of a claw inside him? It’s hard to think of anything, really, and he leans his head back against the scorching scales of Smaug’s tail, hands braced to hold his thighs apart. It’s difficult to work, this lover of his, but they find ways. Smaug’s body is covered in spikes that so neatly fit inside Bilbo’s little hole, even if just the tips. He’s taken the end of Smaug’s tail, even a few of Smaug’s teeth. Now he’s lying back as Smaug tentatively pushes one talon inside him, remarkably gentle for a dragon. 

It’s still too hard and thick, and Bilbo’s back arches up the second he starts to feel the curve. He wants to bend his body to take his dragon, of course, but he isn’t magic, and that isn’t how it works. Instead, Smaug simply slows, ready, Bilbo knows, to stop at any moment. The claw only becomes thicker and thicker, surprisingly cool against his burning skin, slick with a healthy helping of fresh dragon saliva. Bilbo’s ass has been licked so thoroughly that he’s already shaking, the globes of his ass pink and glossy, his cock so much harder than it should be. He doesn’t care how sick it is. How depraved. He’s hard for his dragon every time, and this is no exception. Smaug drives him _wild_. He’s desperate for it. He breaks when Smaug stops, and he moans, and he tries to push his tiny body further down, tries to impale himself more, and the cry he lets out is only half from pain. 

The rest is from the searing pleasure that makes him tremble and gasp, squirming on Smaug’s claw; how could he ever care about something so small and meaningless as the arkenstone, when he can make love with a _dragon_? Smaug makes a clicking sound and purrs, in that all too sensual voice, “Be still, my little treasure... you will hurt yourself...”

But Bilbo doesn’t _care_ —he just wants more of Smaug inside him, _now_.

He wants to be split in two by Smaug’s girth. He wants to be filled with as much of Smaug as he can be, and he wants to take another claw in his mouth and lick at the blunt tip, suck and gorge himself on his lover’s body. He would love Smaug in any form, he thinks, but this one is so very _magnificent_ —bright, ruby red and golden yellow, glistening with the price of a million jewels. Smaug is a masterpiece. 

And Smaug fucks like a Vala.

He rocks his talon gently in and out of Bilbo’s ass, the sounds wet and squelching as more saliva is pushed and pulled about his entrance. His normally tight hole is stretched grotesquely wide, but it’s something he’s used to—he’s worked his way up, fucking himself day and night on larger and larger spikes, until he can nearly sit all the way to the base on certain places along Smaug’s back—ride him properly. Smaug is careful and sweet, but Bilbo is impatient and dazed and now too used to being spoiled. He rocks his body back into Smaug’s paw and helps fuck himself, already dizzy from how it rubs and stretches him. He’s shivering and writhing, and with each breath Smaug takes, warm steam flutters over him, beading his skin with so much sweat. He might pass out from the heat. He has before. He wants to come first. He turns his face into Smaug’s tail and kisses it chastely, and he drinks Smaug’s contented sigh.

“Such an eager thing,” Smaug coos. “I am a very lucky dragon...”

“I... ah... am a very lucky hobbit,” Bilbo murmurs, but it’s hard—forming sentences isn’t easy when he’s being fucked so very deeply. Smaug never gives him anything less. Smaug’s head abruptly dips down, the muzzle gently brushing over Bilbo’s stomach, nuzzling into him.

Reach up to clutch at it, Bilbo moans, long and filthy. He clings to Smaug with an overwhelming mixture of lust and love, and he covers Smaug in kiss that his lover is much too large to properly return. He settles for being licked—his entire side at once, drenching him in a nearly-broiling liquid. His skin’s already calloused to his dragon’s fire. His ass is being split apart. Gasping for air that can’t possibly be enough, Bilbo cries in ecstasy, so close, so very close—

And then he’s coming all over the tip of Smaug’s muzzle, and Smaug, in turn, roars, a deep, rumbling sound that nearly deafens Bilbo, that makes him shiver and prickle and spray even harder. The claw stays buried deep inside him while he comes, still and simply rubbing, the sanded-down tip assaulting that bundle of nerves inside him that turns him into mush. Another lick, and Bilbo’s so covered in saliva that he might as well be drowning.

Then Smaug pulls slickly out of him, leaving a wet, sticky trail, and Smaug’s muzzle retreats and tail recoils, leaving Bilbo to collapse in his bed of gold coins, clutching at the edges of sanity.

He hears more than sees Smaug turn around, and golden trinkets and gems topple over one another as the mountains are slid aside. A great shadow casts over Bilbo, and he smiles to himself—the best part.

He sees Smaug’s giant, beast of a cock descend on him, and he closes his eyes as it presses down into him, just lightly, slipping down his wrecked body and smearing him in a healthy dose of dragon cum. The stench of it is overpowering, but its an intoxicating sort of scent that just makes Bilbo want to be hard again, and he can’t help it—he licks at the giant thing, regardless of whether or not Smaug can even feel such a minute sensation.

Then it pulls back and away, and Bilbo’s left, once again, to lie there, panting and thoroughly covered from head to toe in Smaug’s juices. He knows that even if he should ever leave, no creature alive would ever want him—he _reeks_ of his mate, and that isn’t going to change. He rolls over to give his pleasantly sore ass some relief, and he’s grateful when the familiar tail wraps around him—a kind presence that keeps him warm and safe. He hears Smaug settle down around him, and his hair’s nuzzled into fondly. He reaches blindly to pet Smaug back: he’s just as content.

He sighs and drifts off for a heady sleep, hoping, eventually, they work their way through every last one of Smaug’s too-talented claws.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/82175992901/caringisnotanadvantage221-yeaka-its-been).


End file.
